The Drought - Horse Feathers

Unruly type of sun

Willing to spare no one

From the plains up to the peaks

This heat’s stealing faith from the weak

Amidst the burning breeze

From the ground up through the trees

I hear the birds complain

About the lack of the rain

And it’s not the same life

Here the morning’s like a knife

And the river’s been bone dry

Where the day is not fond of light

Unruly til the night

Shades

From the plains up to the peaks

This heat’s stealing faith from the weak

Amidst the burning breeze

From the ground up through the trees

I hear the birds complain

About the lack of the rain

It’s bearing down on me

No clouds in the sky

I hear the pines crack and cry:

«There's no reason to try»

And it’s not the same life

Here the morning’s like a knife

And the river’s been bone dry

Where the day is not fond of light

It’s bearing down on me

No clouds in the sky

I hear the pines crack and cry:

«There's no reason to try»